


Own Devil, Own Hell

by juliiawrites



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26262385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliiawrites/pseuds/juliiawrites
Summary: You are a young BAU wannabe chosen to work with the team to learn more about the FBI and profiling. You go along with the team on a case involving young women that are being brutally murdered in Michigan, and they all seem to be worrying about your well-being on this one, considering that the victims could be your sisters.Your best friend on the team, Spencer, shares their worries, but trusts that you know how to handle yourself as he was once in your shoes- the youngest, and somewhat overlooked profiler that had so much yet to accomplish.The case seems to drone on without any solid leads and victims piling up- Garcia seems to find a new missing person case that fits the description of the victims every few hours. Without many other options, Hotch asks if you wouldn't mind posing as a potential victim for the unsub. Excited to prove yourself to the team and earn a permanent spot in the BAU, you happily agree, despite the protest of other members of the team. You knew the team would never let you down, and you put your complete trust in them- even after the whole thing goes sour and theres a knife to your throat.-Theme Song : Murder Song by AURORA
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader, The BAU Team/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 52
Collections: Stories set in the Criminal Minds universe





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Own Devil, Own Hell  
> A Criminal Minds Story  
> “We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.”  
> -Oscar Wilde

1.

“Good morning ladies, gents, and merfolk, today I have a particularly icky one for you coming to us from a town literally named Hell, Michigan.”

“Actually, Hell is an unincorporated territory, so-“

“I was getting to that, boy wonder, thank you very much-“

Garcia clicked her remote and stared forward as the crime scene pictures appeared on the screen.

“Three victims all within the last two weeks, all females between the ages of 25-30, all of whom were… brutally… kidnapped, restrained, raped, and murdered.”

The team looked up, the closest thing to shock Garcia had ever seen cross over their faces.

“Cause of death?” Hotch asked.

Garcia cleared her throat. “Well, despite the fact that they look very bloody and messy… the ME says that the cause of death was adrenaline.”

“Adrenaline?” Morgan asked, “like these women were scared to death?”

“Well technically it isn’t the adrenaline that kills you, it’s the calcium channels in your heart opening. Calcium basically stiffens the heart, and so in abundance-“

“Was it injected?” Prentiss asked, glancing away from Reid.

“It seems so. They had needle marks in their necks, though they weren’t easy to find…”

“That is an awful lot of overkill,” JJ said.

“That’s exactly what I was in the middle of saying when I read that all of these wounds were not post-mortem,” Garcia said.

“So we’ve got a very angry sadist that gets off on cutting and torturing women until they can’t take it anymore, in which case he stabs them with a dose of adrenaline strong enough to stop their hearts,” Rossi said, leaning back.

“How smart would you have to be, on average, to know how much adrenaline to give to stop the heart?” Prentiss asked.

“Well, you could just keep administering a dose until it has the effect you want.”

“Where would he be getting all of it?” Hotch asked.

“The most common way to get adrenalin is in an Epi-Pen, and it would also be the easiest to administer,” Spencer said.

“So we could be looking at a guy with a severe allergy, or maybe a pharmacist or somebody employed at a pharmacy. Garcia, you should look for pharmacies that have recently reported the theft of any Epi-Pens or similar medications over the last two to three weeks, but go back further if you have to.”

“These crimes are… very organized,” you said, finally feeling the strength in your stomach to open your mouth. “There’s no hesitation, the victims are taken very close together, and it’s… brutal.”

“You think there are more victims?” Hotch asked.

“I don’t doubt that there are. For these to all be the workings of a new killer, it- it’s just too perfected. Too angry. Too confident.”

“I agree,” Rossi said. “These killings don’t look amateur in the least.”

“CSI found no fingerprints or foreign DNA on the scene,” Garcia added. “And- I’m sorry- I hate to be the one to bring attention to the dear, dear elephant in the room which we all know and love by the name Y/N-“

“What?” You asked, looking around as everyone looked to you.

“These women,” JJ said, glancing between you and the screen, “they could be your sisters.”

“More than that, they could be your twins,” Garcia said, biting her lip.

“We’ll need your help more than ever on this,” Hotch said after a moment. “But if you’re uncomfortable with it, we all understand. You can assist from here.”

“No-“ you said quickly, “absolutely not. I’ll do everything in my power to help.”

“Good,” Hotch said, taking one last look between you and the victims. “Wheels up in twenty.”

—-

“Hey- uh- Y/N- wait up-“

Spencer fumbled and a stack of books and crime scene photos fell in a mess on the ground behind you, and when you turned you saw him scrambling, face beat red, trying to clean it all up.

“What’s up, Spence?” You asked, kneeling and picking up the faces of the victims, which did share some similarities with yours.

“Sorry- I just wanted to ask if you wanted to play chess on the plane?”

“Sure,” you said with a bright smile. You were new to the team- young, like Spencer- and had only really made one close friend. You two got along in a lot of ways, and had your fair share in common, which never ceased to amaze the rest of the team- your memory wasn’t as good as Spencer’s, and you didn’t share the same passion for numbers that he had- but you were smart. You guys both grew up outsiders, and were both good at chess. You liked knowing fun facts and Spencer was full to the brim with them- and some not so fun ones, but those came in handy too. You two fit together wonderfully on the team, and everyone seemed to agree that you were the right pick when the director approved of opening a new spot for profilers-to-be. It was kind of half internship, half job- not that you minded, because you were passionate about what you were doing. Understanding the mind was as complex as anybody could hope to go.

“Here,” you said, handing over the photos. Spencer took them and tucked them into his bag.

“Are you nervous?” He asked.

“To play chess? Absolutely not-“

“No,” he said, more seriously, “about the case.”

“Oh-“ you said. You hadn’t really thought much about it, and didn’t really know what could happen. You didn’t exactly do a lot of breaking and entering on serial killers with the rest of the team, though occasionally you’d work on hostage negotiation. “No. I don’t know. I mean, it’s all gonna be fine, I’m just working the case. And plus, you guys are there. I won’t be alone.”

“You mean Morgan will be there,” he joked. Your face flushed.

“Spencer-“ you hissed, “I swear I never should have told you-“

“Never should’ve told him what?” Morgan asked, strolling up beside you. “Is there something I should know about pretty boy?”

“Absolutely not,” you said, swallowing. “I told him about a disturbing dream I had been having.”

“Oh, what kind of disturbing?” Morgan asked. Spencer pressed his lips together.

“Just about… you know… the job.” You weren’t really lying. Morgan was a part of the job.

“Ah,” he said, a tinge of guilt in his voice, “sorry. You know, it’s tough, but if you ever need anything- anything- I’m around. Don’t be afraid to give a shout.”

You smiled and nodded, and off he went to join Emily and JJ.

Spencer laughed.

“Spencer!” You said, voice hushed, “it isn’t funny.”

“Actually,” he said in his matter-of-fact nerd voice, “it’s hilarious. Your pupils dilated, your cheeks flushed, your hands- they went cold and pale and clammy. Your breathing changed and from the look of your carotid, your heart sped up too-“

“Stop!” You said, elbowing him, “I don’t need you to profile me.”

“You do, though,” he said, “because if I notice it, other people are bound to.”

You looked forward at Morgan and Emily and JJ, and wondered if they were talking about you.

“It was a stupid dream,” you said, “and I had a little bit to drink when I told you.”

Spencer shrugged. “Dreams usually hold some ounce of truth.”

“Well the truth is that it was a dream.”

“A recurring one-“

“Three times,” you said, offended, “like, a month ago.”

Spencer smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back. You climbed the stairs up to the jet and sat across from him in your usual spot, anxiously awaiting your chess game, which you knew wouldn’t end before landing.

—-

“Check,” Spencer said, a devious little smile brewing on his cheeks.

You looked down your nose at the board with a smirk. You saw his setup; move your king away, and in another move he’d have you again- move your queen in front of your king and you gain a turn but lose your most valuable piece- take his rook and in another few turns, once again, he’d have you cornered.

You glanced up at him, and noticed how his eyes darted back to the board when they met yours. Despite nobody else really being into chess, a lot of the team had started watching the battle- nobody had challenged Reid as much as you had since Agent Gideon, someone you had never met but admired regardless.

You looked back down at the board and swiftly moved a pawn up to Reid’s queen- it endangered him enough to be distracted, and could possibly sacrifice one of your bishops in the long run- but it was worth the risk in order to take down the main target.

Reid paused, his hair hanging in front of his face. You knew how quickly he could process things, and watched him count the possibilities in his mind. After a moment, and he moved his queen back a few squares and looked back up at you, possibly- could it be- _annoyed_?

You took the chance you had while you saw it- moved your bishop so that it lined up with his king, making sure that if he tried to use his queen to defend, he would lose it to your own.

“Check.”

He bit his thumbnail and reached over, moving a rook next to his king.

 _Defense_ , you thought, happily surprised. _Perfect_.

You were chasing him around the board now, and it gave you a satisfaction that only came from a good game of chess. Outsmarting, outwitting, out moving- there was hardly anything else that compared to it with such little mess.

You moved your bishop all the way down, taking his rook; you watched him carefully and he studied the board. There was no tricking him, you knew- but he was in a compromising position now, moving one careful step at a time to avoid defeat. If he moved his king wrong, with just one second of bad judgement- he was yours, and you’d relish in the victory. You let the sleeves of your FBI sweater fall over your hands, watching him think.

He moved his king to take your bishop, adding it to the pile of pawns he had collected. Without a second thought, from across the board, laying in wait- your own rook, standing where it had stood for most of the game. You brought it in towards his king, and watched his face fall.

“Sorry, Spence,” you said, dramatically knocking over his king, “but it looks like the queen wins today.”

Morgan chuckled, though he tried to cover it up with a cough, and across from him you could swear you saw Hotch smile.

“Maybe next time, Spence,” JJ said, patting his shoulder. “It happens to the best of us."

“I guess so,” he said, fighting a smile as he looked up at you, knocking over his king and laughing. “I guess so.”

“Alright everyone, we’ll be landing in the next ten minutes,” Hotch said, glancing up at you.

“Right,” you said, quickly taking the pieces and tucking them into the drawer under the board.

“Reid, Y/L/N, and JJ can go to the police station when we land and start looking through things there. Me and Morgan will go to the first crime scene, and Rossi and Prentiss will go to the ME.”

You nodded. You liked being Reid’s little shadow- you knew he liked to teach you, too. Things like what this type of murder means, or what this choice of murder weapon means, or what Captain Janeway said on season three episode fifteen of _Star Trek:_ _Voyager:_ “You're more like a vulture, preying on people at the moment they’re most vulnerable.”

“No,” you said once, with a sheepish smile- it was early on in your work with BAU.

“What?” Spencer said, hardly noticing you listening so intently.

“She said, ‘you’re more like a vulture, preying on people _at the moment of their death_ , when they’re most vulnerable.’”

Rossi had pat him on the back, “move over kid. You got some steep competition.”

“But it’s basically the same thing-“

“Need help with that?” Reid asked, breaking into your memory of that day.

“What?” You asked.

“The bag,” he said, and you looked down at your duffel on the table.

“Oh,” you said, “no, I just zoned out. I got it.” You lifted it and let your arm fall, the weight nearly pulling you down. You were fit, obviously- you made it this far into the FBI- but still rather small and lacking in the muscle department. Reid wasn’t on the same shelf as Morgan when it came to that, but he had quite a bit to show off that most wouldn’t expect.

“So did you ever get around to reading that book?” Reid asked, walking beside you towards the SUVs waiting on the pavement outside the plane.

“Which one?” You asked, trying to remember all of the different things he had recommended.

“ _The Goldfinch_ ,” he said, “the one-“

“Oh!” You said, “yes! I forgot to tell you I finally finished it. I loved it- the art history, the emotion-“

“I thought you would,” he said.

You had mentioned to him once about how you managed to secure a minor in art history in college, just by taking a course every year because of how much you had loved it. Reid wasn’t super into modern books written in english, but he had known what to recommend.

“And the parallels, you know, between Theo and his father and Boris, and the contrast between how different he would have been in each place he stayed-“

“It’s a great work,” he agreed with a smile.

You climbed into the backseat of Hotch’s car, followed by Spencer.

“Y/L/N, I just want to make sure-“ Hotch said, “you’re new to the field, so if you’re uncomfortable or don’t feel ready-“

“Sir,” you said, a little laughter in your voice, “with all due respect. I’m a young woman, at some point there was bound to be a killer who killed people that looked like me. Why not take the plunge now and learn how to deal with it when I have you all to help?”

He looked at you in the mirror and nodded.

“It’s not easy,” JJ said, “I remember how it used to affect me. If you need to talk-“

You nodded, “thanks, JJ. I’ll let you know.”

You really didn’t feel any sort of way about the situation- so you looked like the victims. What could you do about it? You knew what to look out for, you’d be with the team every second anyway- maybe it would get to you mentally, but if it did, you’d deal with that then.


	2. 2

2.

The station was relatively quiet, especially after Hotch made introductions and they left us to our own little conference room in the back corner with a stained whiteboard at the head of the table. One officer sat talking with a young woman who looked like she couldn’t care any less about whatever was going on, and behind a closed door was another officer, making coffee for a couple that sat crying in the same room.

“Are those the victims parents?” You asked.

“Yeah, the last one’s,” JJ said.

The hardest part of the job was giving life to the victims- seeing their families, hearing about what they were like, what they loved- and in this situation, you couldn’t stop from imagining your own family in that position, crying as Aaron Hotchner broke the news that you had been kidnapped and murdered by a serial killer right under their nose.

It wasn’t rational, and you knew it wouldn’t happen. The team seemed a bit on edge about you working this case, and it has started to get into your head- they’d all experienced it before, feeling like the victims. Most of them even _were_ victims at one point or another.

“You okay?” Reid asked, following your gaze to the family.

“Yeah,” you said, “it’s always the hard part, isn’t it? Seeing the families like that, numb from the grief and so lost.”

Reid nodded.

“The best thing you can do for them is listen and catch the guy who did this,” JJ said, toying with her necklace, “the only other thing you can do is wait.”

Still, you couldn’t help but want to do more. You wanted to bring them their daughter back, happy and alive, and the thought of that impossibility weighed heavily on you. How could something be so out of reach? Death was so final, so complete, like the last period at the end of a book- it resonated, and for a moment you had to understand the weight of the silent _the end_.

“Y’all need anything else?” One of the officers asked, sticking his head through the door.

“We should be good here,” JJ said, “I’d like to talk with the parents of the last victim, if I can.”

“Of course, follow me,” he said, and JJ trailed after him. You watched her go. You knew she had been young, too, when she started the job- not even a profiler yet, just handling the press and which cases were the most high risk. You were some combination of young JJ and Reid, and it had been clear to you from the start that a lot of the team felt protective over that fact. The job came with trauma basically as a requirement, and you had some kind of sense that they all wanted to keep you just the way you were, no baggage added.

“I think I should go too,” you said, following after JJ.

Reid hadn’t had time to respond by the time you closed the door behind you and slipper into the room after JJ.

“She was a good girl,” the father said, voice wet and nasally, “just a normal kid, you know. Did fine in her classes, went to school, partied some, but always came home on holidays and made time for family.”

“Is there anything at all that happened the weeks leading up to her death that sticks out to you?” JJ asked.

“I can’t think of anything,” the mother said, slightly rocking herself back and forth with a tissue clenched in her fist.

“She mentioned wanting to get a dog,” the father said.

“Did she feel unsafe?” JJ asked.

“She loved animals, but I don’t know. She just couldn’t have animals in the apartment where she lived. I told her she could stay with us for a while, train a dog, find a new place-“

The mother was watching you as you listened. She stood slowly and moved towards you, reaching out and gently taking a piece of your hair in her hands.

“You look so much like her,” she said with a smile. “Who are you?”

“Agent Y/l/n,” you said, swallowing, “I’m training, ma’am.”

“Oh, good,” she said, tears bubbling in her eyes. “I’m sorry. You just- even your eyes.”

You smiled politely and glanced at JJ. You hadn’t seen he resemblance to be that uncanny, but maybe the mother was just desperate to see her daughter alive and unharmed again.

“Doesn’t she, Paul?” She asked, glancing back to her husband.  
“Yeah, hun,” he said, pressing his lips together.

“Oh,” she said, shaking her head, “you find this man who did this to our daughter, you hear me?”

You nodded. “Loud and clear, ma’am. That’s what we’re here to do.”

“What kind of person would do this?” The father asked, lips twisted into a sick scowl, “how does someone-“

“It’s hard to know exactly,” JJ said with a sigh, “but we do know that there are very sick people out there, and that it’s our job to catch them. And we will.”

The mother had been watching you the whole time, tears trailing down her cheeks, some skipping over her skin like stones on a lake.

—-

“I don’t know, it was just kind of creepy,” you said, the end of your pen between your teeth.

“She’s just clinging to the memory of her daughter,” JJ said, “it was a good lesson for you.”

“I found it incredibly difficult to adapt to the feelings of the families,” Reid said, head down in a file, “I knew I still had a lot to learn from this job, but quite frankly I didn’t expect that to be the biggest part of it. I’m still learning, in fact.”

“I don’t know, I guess I didn’t fully see it before.”

“See what?” JJ asked.

“The resemblance,” you said, looking at the pictures.

“It’s uncanny,” Reid said, glancing up.

“I remember that feeling,” JJ said, placing a hand on your arm, “it’s important to remember that you aren’t them. And it might come in handy, being his type-“ she said, “sometimes you can talk them down better than anybody else.”

“I guess,” you said. “Has Garcia found-“

The phone started ringing, and when JJ answered it, Garcia’s happy-go-lucky-even-in-the-face-of-unspeakable-horrors voice graced your ears.

“Hello beautiful people,” she said, typing away, “I just-“

“Speak of the devil,” you laughed, and Spencer smiled to himself.

“I just did some digging and my initial search came up with zilch, however after replacing my shovel with a pickaxe I came to discover that all three of our current victims had gone to a bar in town with some friends. It seemed pretty out of character for these women, and they posted a bunch on various social medias.”

“All at the same bar?” Reid asked.

“Not exactly,” Garcia said, “the first and the last were at the same bar. The second one, though, was at a bar a town over with some friends from high school.”

“It’s imperfect but it’s too close to be a coincidence,” you said, still chewing on your pen.

“So could the bars be his hunting ground?” JJ asked, though it was more of a statement than a question, “also, Garcia, did you find any other cases that were similar?”

“I’m still narrowing that list down, but as of right now I had a couple dozen cases involving women going missing from a bar that looked similar to these girls. Most of them are still alive, though… Because, well, you know.”

“Right,” JJ said, shaking her head.

“Try looking into cases where a body was found in similar condition,” Reid said, “and cross reference that with records from local bars.

“Always the genius,” Garcia said, “I’ll catch ya later. Garcia out.”

“Hunting for women in bars seems a little juvenile,” you said. “It’s an easy way for us to catch on to who they could be.”

“Right, but that means it has to be compulsive. Maybe he has some connection to one of these bars, or a bar like them, that is causing the rage. Probably with a woman who looks like the victims.”

“It’s a lot of rage,” JJ said, “I mean, he’s ripping them apart.”

The rest of the team walked into the room after that, sipping coffee and talking amongst themselves.

“Hey,” Reid said, sitting up a little straighter, “we just got off the phone with Garcia. There might be a connection to some of the bars in town-“

“We’ve got another missing woman,” Hotch said, hanging up his phone.

“The ME said that they were kept alive roughly a day before they were killed,” Rossi said. “We’ve got 24 hours to find this guy until someone else dies.

“We should see if she’s been to a bar in the last week,” you said, opening your laptop.

Hotch taped her photo up on the board, and she looked just the same as the others. You don’t know what you had expected, but for a moment you got lost in her bright smile, the happy squint of her eyes, and the little earrings in her ears.

“This is Marissa Peters, 24, just graduated from the University of Michigan and was taking some time off and staying with her parents before going to grad school,” Hotch said, looking around the room.

“Was she the type to go out and party a lot?” Morgan asked.

“Her parents are coming in soon. Her mother reported her missing after she didn’t come back from a grocery run this morning.”

“Marissa Peters-“ you said, typing fast through various social media sites- that was the good thing about being the resident gen z on the team. “Looks like she did go out a few nights ago- she said _decided to take a break and go out with the girls- had a great time_.”

Spencer leaned over and looked over the profile. It was a picture of her with two other girls, a little blurry, with smiles stretched across their faces and the dim lights of the bar swirling around them.

“What bar is it?” Rossi asked.

“They tagged the location ‘Angelo’s’ on the picture,” you said.

“Garcia’s gonna feel a little neglected,” Emily joked, and you smiled, trying to hide how flushed you were.

“I still don’t understand social media. It’s like a shopping catalogue for unsubs,” Rossi said.

“Well in all fairness this guy finds them in the bars,” you said. “Also, when all you see is the worst in people it can be hard to see the-“

Rossi was staring at you with one eyebrow raised, and Morgan let out a gentle scoff.

“Young people,” Rossi said with a shake of his head.

“Well technically-“ Reid began.

“Reid,” Hotch said quickly, “you, Morgan, and Y/N go to the bar where Marissa had been. The rest of us will stay here for when her parents come in.”

Reid pressed his lips together and nodded. You looked at him, and couldn’t help the urge to laugh as you realized you were both just put in timeout for not having filters. Morgan, on the other hand, like an annoyed babysitter, stretched his neck and sighed.

“Can I drive?” You asked with a smile.

“Not a chance kid,” Morgan said,pausing after each word. He held up his hand and motioned for you get going. “Come on.”

—-

“Well then at least take me to the track and teach me,” you said with a smile.

Morgan rolled his eyes with a laugh- flirting. You had learned a lot form the profilers, especially about each other. They were very eager to use each other as examples.

“You are eager,” he said.

You couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach. Typical.

“I just want the best chance I can get at getting assigned here,” you said, trying to seem oblivious. Not that it was terribly serious- this was how he talked to Garcia, and how she talked to him- but you knew that Reid was int he backseat shaking his head with a smirk because, of course, he knew about the dream. Something about that severely irked you.

“Kid you’re doing great,” Morgan said. “And you’ve done us a big favor, too. You pulled back the reigns on this firecracker.”

Reid scoffed.

You laughed, though you barely understood.

“Right,” you said, turning your attention to the road ahead of you.

“Something wrong?” Morgan asked.

“Uh-“ you said, confused, “uh, no, why?”

“You tilted your head. Sighed. Crossed your left arm over to your right. You do that when something isn’t sitting right with you.”

Reid was listening now. You could tell.

“No,” you said, “I’m actually okay. I’m a little nervous, I guess, to be in one of the bars where one of the victims was potentially chosen… all things considered.”

“Well nothings gonna happen to you,” Morgan said.

“Well with an offender like this who is so obsessed with location, there’s actually a very good possibility that they are revisiting these sites or even work or live near them, much like other killers would revisit the graves of their victims-“

You cleared your throat and scratched at your neck.

“But nothings gonna happen,” Reid said.

“Right,” you said, and this time you noticed yourself tilting your head and reaching over to your right arm.

“Alright, so you’re nervous. Let’s talk about it this way,” Morgan said, looking over to you. “You get kidnapped like one of these victims-“

“Oh-“ you said, turning to him, “I-“

“Wait, wait, wait-“ he said, shaking his head impatiently, “you get kidnapped like one of the victims. You have training for situations like those. You wouldn’t be just another victims. You’re probably in the lowest risk group there is for men like this.”

You didn’t feel comforted by this for some reason.

“I haven’t had to use that kind of training in the field. I don’t even _go_ in the field with you guys unless it’s something like this.”

“Exactly,” Morgan added, “you’re always with us, and we always have an eye out for you. This fear, it’s a normal part of adapting to the job. You see the worst in people, mentally and physically. If you weren’t a little nervous when a few victims show up looking kind of like you, I’d be worried that we had a bigger problem.”

You shrugged.

“When I first entered the field I hadn’t even passed my physical evaluation yet, but they ultimately made an exception considering my strength in other areas,” Reid said, a proud grin spread across his face.

“Yeah, and pretty boy couldn’t even shoot. He tell you that?”

You laughed.

“I learned,” Reid said, offended, “it’s difficult getting used to- it’s one thing to understand the mechanics and numerically what to expect in terms of force and-“

“It’s alright Spence,” you said while Morgan turned carefully into the bar parking lot. An old sign said _Angelo’s_ over the door, with cheap string lights hanging down over the entrance. “When I was in school, I barely ever got out and did anything other than school.”

Morgan parked the car and looked over to you. “The both of you. You don’t have any crazy college stories other than pulling an all-nighter for a final?”

“Well, I wouldn’t do that-I ” you said, not realizing how to the point that statement was.

“Case and point,” Morgan said. “I’m gonna have to take you both out with me when we get home. How’s that sound?”

You stepped out of the car and the smell of beer and dust fogged around you.

“As long as it isn’t a place like this,” you said, folding your arms up over your stomach.

“Look the part,” Morgan said. It was something the team had told you from the start, even Reid- people expect what they see. When Reid carries himself like a weak nerdy boy, that’s what people expect. So if you walked in looking for answers about a potential serial killer, you couldn’t look all feeble and careful. You had to have a presence- you had to demand that right kind of authoritative attention without teetering over the edge into distrust. A young girl with a gun on her belt and college diploma freshly displayed in her home, next to the letter of acceptance into the BAU’s selective program for gifted recruits. You untucked your arms and held them at your side, chin up, face pressed into an all-business-Hotch look. There was a certain confidence that came with playing the role so well, like everybody was positive of who you were, what you were about, even though you didn't quite know exactly what was going on yourself.


End file.
